188

THE BIBLE AND THE SHELL.

And rides at last where firm and fast
Her own Gibraltar towers!

The good ship Union's voyage is o'er,
At anchor safe she swings,

And loud and clear with cheer on cheer
Her joyous welcome rings:

Hurrah! Hurrah! it shakes the wave,
It thunders on the shore, -

-

One flag, one land, one heart, one hand,
One Nation, evermore !

THE BIBLE AND THE SHELL.

BY REV. CHARLES W. DENISON, CHAPLAIN U. S. A.

A

T Fredericksburg, when foemen waged
The battle of the plain,

A soldier, face to face engaged,

Through smoke and fog and rain,
Knelt down beside his trusty gun,
Among the shrieking shell,

Nor paused until the day was done,
And to the earth he fell.

SONG FOR OUR SOLDIERS.

Stretched out upon the trembling ground,

He bleeding, helpless lay;

His Bible on his breast was found,

Where his coat was torn away:
A shell had struck the sacred book,
And shattered it apart;

But there the fragment glanced, and took
Its leap from off his heart!

A Minie ball came singing, then,
And lodged in his bosom's flesh;
But he rose alive, among dying men,
And knelt and fought afresh.
Again this living truth was graved
On that torn and bloody sod,
Full many a soldier's life is saved
By the Holy Book of God.

189

THE VOLUNTEER.

Where you find the white men,
Union-hating white men,

Ribald rabble white men,

Let your cannon play!
Where you find the black men,
Union-loving black men,
True and loyal black men,

Let 'em run away.

Break off their chains, boys!
Strike off their chains, boys!
Knock off their chains, boys,
And let 'em run away!

191

THE VOLUNTEER.

BY ELBRIDGE JEFFERSON CUTLER.

T dawn," he said, “I bid them all farewell,

AT

To go where bugles call and rifles gleam." And with the restless thought asleep he fell And glided into dream.

A great hot plain from sea to mountain spread,
Through it a level river slowly drawn ;
He moved with a vast crowd, and at its head
Streamed banners like the dawn.

192

THEN AND NOW.

There came a blinding flash, a deafening roar,

And dissonant cries of triumph and dismay; Blood trickled down the river's reedy shore, And with the dead he lay.

The morn broke in upon his solemn dreams,
And still, with steady pulse and deepening eye,
"Where bugles call," he said, " and rifles gleam,
I follow, though I die!”

Wise youth! By few is glory's wreath attained; But death, or late or soon, awaiteth all.

To fight in Freedom's cause is something gained,— And nothing lost, to fall.

THEN AND NOW.

"TWAS the night before Christmas, just one

year ago,

In the same little cot slept Nannie and Joe, While wonderful dreams swarmed through each cunning head

Of the stockings they'd hung at the sides of their

bed.

A very slight creak of the nursery door,